In love with a Killer
by PrimeEmily135
Summary: On Death's doorstep, Pitch meets a Reaper. She is dark, mysterious, and downright dangerous. For him, it's love at first sight. But she wants nothing to do with the Nightmare King. PitchxOC rated T for blood and violence. Prequel to "Alone and Hurting".
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by a video I found on YouTube by username " rotgaffinity" but this is not a mothergothel/pitch fic.**

**I do not own rise of the guardians. I do not own the lyrics to "I'm in love (with a killer)" but I do own my OC. Now without further ado, to the song fic! :)**

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_A little danger's never stopped me before..._

_Seduced by hypnotic eyes and a kiss to die for_

_Everything you do causes me pain..._

_Torture me with a smile, burning me with your flame_

_Yeah TURN IT UP, this f-f-f-fire inside_

_Yeah TURN ME UP, your body's a weapon tonight_

_You CUT ME UP, cut me up stab me straight through the heart_

_Don't you know I'm in love..._

_...with a killer, it's driving me wild_

_masochistic thriller, your my burning desire_

_Don't care if I make it out alive_

_K-k-killer, Love me til the day that I die_

_I taste blood every time that we kiss..._

_Get lost in your gaze when you're lickin your lips_

_I'm lyin' here, I'm holdin' my breath..._

_Can't wait for you to love me to death_

_Yeah TURN IT UP, this f-f-f-fire inside_

_Yeah TURN ME UP, your body's a weapon tonight_

_You CUT ME UP, cut me up stab me straight through the heart_

_I'm madly in love.._.

XxPitchxOCxX

Pitch felt frozen under her stare. Her eyes held no pity, no hint of remorse for what she was about to do. Her crimson red gaze held him transfixed as he stared up at her, wounded on the ground and surrounded by a pool of his own blood. He was dying, and she was there to take his life away.

"How pathetic..." she sneered, looking down on him in disgust. Her dark brown hair fell in front of her eyes, the red tips swirling around her chin in a pleasant curl. But she payed it no mind, not even brushing it aside. Her rich red lips pressed into a tight line, almost in frustration. "But I can't kill you, not yet. MIM apparently has plans for you in the future..." she sounded disappointed, but nevertheless, she sheathed her silver blade back into its sheath at her black belt.

The Nightmare King looked up in confusion. This woman was a Reaper! A death bringer! Why would she show up, and not kill him?

"Do you fear Death, Pitch?" she asked, bringing the hood of her cloak down over her eyes.

"No...I welcome it."

She scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that. The next time we meet...I won't hesitate to tear out your heart."

But he wasn't afraid of her threat. Looking back on the encounter made his heart pound in his chest, and he knew that he was in love. She had been so cruel, so vile, so heartless. She was everything he had ever wanted in a girl. She was dangerous. A killer...

XxPitchxOCxX

It was well over a hundred years before he saw her again. Hiding in the shadows he watched in shocked silence as she did her work. Humans surrounded her and the small girl that ha just been clipped by a car, but they were all frozen in place. One of the many tricks of a Reaper. But he was immune.

He watched curiously as she inspected the injury. The child was crying in pain but the Spirit of Death hushed her calmly, whispering that everything was going to be alright. Sweet words of Death.

The child's eyes closed and a cold brush of wind passed through the street and alleyway, making Pitch shiver. The woman Reaper opened a small pouch on her belt and placed a hand on the child's forehead. Whispering a few words, a slow mist seeped from the girl's mouth and into the pouch. As the bag was closed time resumed its motion and the concerned people rushed to the dead child, bumping into the Reaper.

Pitch looked on as she shoved her way out of the crowd. Apparently, adults believed in death, but they refused to accept what it was. She was completely ignored as she walked past them and into the nearby alleyway. "She didn't deserve to die..." she muttered, fixing a glare on the floor.

He slunk farther into the shadows as she passed him, unsure if he should do or say anything. She had made it quite clear that he didn't like him the last they had met, but since then he couldn't stop thinking about her. His infatuation of her was not short lived as he had hoped it to be. He was obsessed, and now might have been his only chance to see he again if he didn't act.

He took a deep breath and sighed, moving even farther back into the darkness. But he froze when she stopped in her tracks. He saw her moving slowly and he could hear the deathly hiss of a blade being drawn. And without time to react, he saw shining silver flying through the air directly at him. Pain burned in his cheek and he heard the knife impact with the wall next to him.

He gulped as she turned to face his hiding place. Her eyes were searching for him and for a brief second they locked with his golden ones. After that he disappeared, running away to escape her apparent anger.

In the darkness of his home, he reached up and touched the deep cut on his cheek. Blood spread over his fingertips and ran down hi neck coldly. Dang, that woman was fast to attack. How was he ever going to get close enough to even talk to her?

XxPitchxOCxX

"Pitch!" her voice rang through the caverns like any angry hornet. She was standing over the body of a lone cave spelunker, his clothes were drenched with water and blood, and he was dead. "Pitch, I know you're there!" she glared at the shadows until he finally emerged.

He tried to keep his distance from her, eyeing her wearily and keeping close to his shadows. The thin pale scar on his cheek barely showed in the darkness, but she obviously saw it and was enraged even further.

"I knew it! I knew you were following me!" she growled, marching over to him. The red tips of her hair seemed to cling to her neck like blood. But he didn't have time to ponder why. As she stormed up to him he slowly backed away into his shadows until all she could see was his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

He looked down at the ground, trying desperately to think of some way he could explain his appearance. But he had no excuse. "I-I was watching you." he finally said, feeling completely horrible even though he had spoken the truth. It was an embarrassing thing to have to admit to someone.

She looked at him in astonishment. The anger had temporarily left her, replaced with a slight curiosity. "Why? And why would you even admit it? It just screams creepy stalker."

"I think that you would only accept the truth. It seems to be in your nature to anger when you are told a lie..." he muttered quietly, being careful to stay out of the moonlight that was slowly creeping into the cave from a crack in the ceiling.

Her eyes narrowed in scrutiny, and she stepped into his domain. "Why we're you watching me?"

He gulped, feeling a hard knot in his throat. She was coming so close it was making him nervous. Her hands were covered with blood, and her fingertips were touching the hilt of one of her blades. "I-I was watching you be-because I find you intriguing." he felt his back hit the wall and he fought off the urge to disappear into another shadow half way across the world.

"Intriguing? Is that the best you can come up with Pitch?" she pulled the nine inch blade from its sheath and held it up, tapping the tip against the scar on his face. "Spill the truth, or my friend here will be doing a lot more than cutting your cheek." she grasped the front of his cloak before he could run, holding the knife closer to his eye. "Talk."

"I-I just-" he stammered, feeling fear prickle in his stomach. A desperate urge in his whole body to flee. But she had him pinned against the wall, a knife and serious death threat staring him in the face. Man, that was sexy. He bit his lip hard, drawing a little blood. "I just...wanted to talk to you..."

Her eyes softened a little bit, and he swore for a moment they turned from red to brown. It was only a flash, but it was a dark beautiful brown. She shook herself and let him go, closing her eyes tightly. "Why would you want to talk to me? Nobody ever wants to talk to me!" she growled. "Nobody wants a Reaper around. And you!" she pointed at him with her knife. "You know I hate you-!"

"But I don't know why." he interjected, taking a very hesitant step forward. "I don't know what I've done to upset you so much."

She glared at him, moving the knife to his neck. "Fear kills." She sounded like she wanted to cut out his throat. "Fear is what kills children! A dog barks at an innocent girl and she'll run into the busy street to get away from it! Noises in the woods can make a child misstep and fall into ditches they can't climb out of! Fear is what brings a seventeen year old girl to put a gun to her own head-!" she broke off, tears streaming down her face. Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "Fear is what turned me into what I am... Fear is what destroyed me. _You_ destroyed me."

Pitch felt his chest constrict and breathing became difficult. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

"Go shoot yourself, then you can tell me you're sorry!"

XxPitchxOCxX

..._with a killer, it's driving me wild_

_masochistic thriller, your my burning desire_

_Don't care if I make it out alive_

_K-k-killer, Love me til the day that I die_

_K-k-killer_

_K-k-killer_

_K-k-killer_

_K-k-killer_

_You can stab my heart a million times_

_I'll still lick up the blood and smile_

_You can stab my heart a million times_

_Cuz I know that I'm to ready die..._

_I'm madly in love..._

_...with a killer, it's driving me wild_

_masochistic thriller, your my burning desire_

_Don't care if I make it out alive_

_K-k-killer, Love me til the day that I die_

_K-k-killer_

_K-k-killer_

_K-k-killer_

_K-k-killer_

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**Hoped you liked it. So this was going to be a one-shot... But it was getting a little long for my taste so I decided to split it up. So, the song will stay the same through the fic because that was what inspired it. And hopefully I will have more up soon.**

**Please leave a Review :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is part two. Pitch may seem a little OOC in the first part but oh well. It was fun to write and it made my little brother laugh. :)**

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Pitch looked down at the pistol in his hand with dread. Just one clean shot. That's all it would take. Just one bullet...

He cringed, closing his eyes tightly as he took aim. His hand shook violently, not wanting to do what he was telling it too. It was going to hurt, he knew it would. And he hated pain. Last chance to turn back passed as he started to pull the trigger. Any moment now-.

-Bang!-

"Dag-nab-it!" he screeched, throwing the pistol as far away from him as possible. "Oh cursed Hell! Ow!" he crumpled down to the ground, grasping hold of his bleeding foot. "Friggin'-Fraggin'-chicken nuggets! Oowww! That hurts!" he cursed and cried on the floor, whimpering helplessly in pain. His hands clasped tightly around the bullet hole but he could feel the blood seeping between his fingers. "Oh by all the unholy terrors, I'm going to be sick..." he gasped, before promptly heaving his insides out onto the ground.

After his spell he sat up dizzily and applied more pressure to his wound. He had prepared to extract the bullet, setting out a pair of tweezers, a towel, and a pail of clean water before hand but he hadn't taken in account how much pain he would be in after he had shot himself. His hand was shaky as he grabbed at his tool and uncovered the hole in his foot. "Oh good grief!" he turned his gaze away sickly, feeling himself go even more pale. "It went all the way through!" he groaned.

XxPitchxOCxX

After his foot had healed, it didn't take long to track her down again. Her nightmares were horrific and her fear was sour. It wasn't exactly hard to pick up on. And soon he was standing in an alley across the street from her, watching her with a confused feeling.

She was laying on a park bench as she slept. Her black cloak fell sloppily half on the ground along with one of her hands, the other rested over her stomach. One knee was bent and her combat boot rested on the edge of the bench. Even from his distance he could see the wet shine of tears on her face and the sickly dark color of blood on her hands. He had once found the sight of her in such a state of distress to be arousing, but after so long of observing her the feeling had turned quite bitter. Now he felt the need to take her pain away, to take away the fear that plagued her even if it weakened him to do so. It was a very conflicting feeling.

Disappearing into the shadows, he appeared again beside a tree not two feet away from her. He approached her carefully, noting that her eyes were clenched shut tightly and her lips pulled into a tight line, as if she were fighting a mental battle inside of her. As he watched her a stray wind whipped her dark red-tipped hair into her face. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and softly brushed it away with the tip of his forefinger. The second his skin touched hers her hand clamped around his wrist and her eyes snapped open, glaring daggers into him.

Pitch froze, unsure what he should do. She had a tight hold on him and he doubted that he could get away from her even if he tried. Her eyes were murderous and her teeth clenched tightly as she seethed at him. "I thought I told you to go rot in hell Pitch!" she growled and pushed him away, sitting up on the bench. Although she was angry, he could see the definite slump in her posture and the tired look in her brown eyes. She was exhausted.

"No, I distinctly remember you telling me to go shoot myself. You said that you wouldn't accept my apology if I didn't. So I did, and I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for tormenting you to the point you felt it necessary to commit suicide..."

"Well you can take your apology and shove it up-" her glare softened slightly when she looked up at him. "Wait, what?" her eyes widened slightly, then narrowed again in suspicion. "You really expect me to believe that you shot yourself? What a load of garbage. What kind of a fool do you take me for?" he was about to respond when she cut him off again. "And another thing! I've made my point to you quite clear. Why do you keep coming back?"

Pitch bit his lips harshly, searching frantically for something to say. "I know you are not a fool. And I know you have no reason to show any kindness to me. But I can't help but feel like..." he trailed off, feeling like a noose was being tightened around his neck. He sat down on the bench, as far away from her as he could manage. "I can't stop feeling like I can help you in some way."

"I don't need your help!" she snapped, standing up and turning her back to him. "What gave you any idea that I need help! I'm perfectly fine on my own, I always have been. What could you possibly have to offer me?" as she spoke her voice softened again and even though her back was turned to him he could tell her eyes were watering.

"Well...at the moment..." he stood up to join her, renewed confidence slowly coursing through him. "I could offer you a warmer place to sleep, and a place to wash the blood from your hands." he could tell that he was striking a cord with her, he could only pray that she would respond to it positively.

Her head hung forward and she weaves her fingers in with her hair. "Why would you care? No one ever has before." she said quietly.

"I just do." it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either.

She turned back to him. "You just do..." she glared at him, a tear spilling down her cheek. "You are such a jerk. Stop toying with me! You want something from me, I can tell just by looking you in the eyes! No one has ever spoken to me without thinking of their own personal gain. What do you want?!"

Pitch stood tall, despite the feeling that he should turn tail and run. "Honestly, I just want to know your name."

She looked taken aback, suddenly backing away from him. Her lips moved with no sound, and she stared at the ground. "M-my name?" he nodded and she sniffed, wiping tears away from her face. "It's been so long I-I almost forgot what it was..."

"What is it?"

"It's...Emily..." she said it as if the word was strange to her, but with almost a longing. Like she wanted someone to say her name but was too closed off and afraid to tell anyone.

Pitch said the word quietly, letting the syllables roll off his tongue pleasantly. "I like it. The name suits you well." he gave her a cautious smile and touched one of her hands tangled in her hair. She jerked away in reaction but he wasn't put off by any means. He reached out again and took her bloodied hand gently in his, and he kissed it. "Farewell, until we meet again Emily." he started to walk back into his shadows until he heard her speak again.

"Pitch?"

He turned back around to face her. "Yes?"

"Did you really shoot yourself?" he nodded in response but she looked at him critically. "I want to see the scar."

He sighed audibly. "As you wish." bending over, he unlaced his boot and pulled it off along with his sock. He stretched his ankle a bit and then pointed out the white scar in almost a perfect circle. "There it is.."

Emily moved forward to get a better look, and then she laughed. "Oh wow, you are such an idiot!" he frowned at her as she walked away. But he heard the humor and faint admiration in her voice as she said quietly. "Maybe you aren't such a waste of my time..."

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**Okay, just to make one thing clear. Her name is Emily but she is not a self insert! After hours of trying to find a name that was the perfect one for her. Don't give me the self insert/Mary sue comments please!**

**Anyways, hope you liked the second part. I will have more out soon I hope... Please Review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much for the reviews! :)**

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The rain poured down from the sky in harsh torrents, covering the dark streets with a slow moving river of water. The sun had long left the sky, replaced with dark black clouds, blocking out all but a ray of moonlight. And that one beam of light fell upon the lonely woman standing in the rain over the body of an older teenage girl.

Pitch stood back respectfully, watching Emily work. He knew that she could sense his presence there, and that he was partially the fault of why she was even there, but over the past few months they had come to an uneasy conclusion that they would be seeing each other a lot whether they liked it or not. Mostly she wouldn't acknowledge his existence but sometimes, like tonight, he could tell she was going to give him a good punch in the nose. He didn't mind however. He wasn't ashamed of the fact that fear had driven this girl in the hands of death to suicide, he just wished that it hadn't been Emily sent to take the girl's soul.

He stiffened slightly as the Reaper finally stood up. Manny shone down on her brighter as she stood still, obviously telling her something. Pitch was almost jealous of her, the man in the moon hardly ever spoke to him. He was always, for lack of better words, left in the dark.

"Why?! Why?! Just give me one reason! I'll never question you again!" The Reaper's voice was riddled with anger and distress. "Why can't I just end his pathetic existence once and for all? The Guardians have been trying to for ages! Why can't I just end him?!" she screamed up at the moon, clenching her fists tightly with a very sharp knife in her hand. Tears were streaming down her face, and he swore she was crying blood.

"Because he loves you."

Manny's response rang in his ears, and for a moment he thought he was hallucinating. The man in the moon had spoken to both of them. And the Reaper was not happy...

XxPitchxOCxX

"Oh by all things holy! Stop it woman!" Pitch grasped her wrists tightly forcing the knife from her hand and letting it drop to the wet ground. She struggled helplessly, trying to strike him. Other than the rather bright red hand mark across his cheek he had managed to come out of their spat unhurt. The girl must have been distraught to have been bested so easily. She was usually so much more dangerous than that.

"You ass! You rat bastard-..." she sobbed, pounding her fist harmlessly on his chest. "How can you say that when all you do is hurt me? You cause death, so much death!" she glared up at him, her teary eyes turned bright red in her fury. "I hate you!" she pulled away, stumbling backwards. "I hate you!" she shook her head, picking up her knife and sheathing it. "At first-at first-" she took a shaky breath, wiping the wet off of her cheeks. "I thought it was kind of cute the way you followed me around like a lost puppy, I thought you were just lonely! But now-now- oh my goodness, you are such a creep!"

"Emily please, you do not understand-" He took a step closer to her, trying to reach out to her but she pushed him away. He seethed, feeling his normal anger towards the Man in the moon turn quickly to absolute abhorring him. He had no right to tell her that. "Just listen to me for a moment."

"No! No I won't listen to you. Not anymore. I never want to see your face ever again!" she pointed a finger at him, looking as if she wanted to carve his heart out with her bare hands, but she resorted to using words instead. "I could never love someone like you! Never! You kill people, you make them believe in me. I don't want to be believed in! I want to die out and move on, I never wanted to be what I am, and you just keep making me live on. My whole predicament is your fault! I hate you!"

"Hey! I never said that I cared about you, did I?" he pointed out. "How do you know MIM isn't the one pulling your strings? And another thing. I never asked to be what I was either, and I have been around a lot longer than you missy. You have no right to complain!" he snapped.

"Shut up! He never lies. And I don't give a dang how much you think you have it worse than me. I have the short end of the stick here buster!" she turned her back on him and started to stomp away. "Stay away from me you creep!"

XxPitchxOCxX

Pitch shook his head, whipping his hair around to rid it of the water that had plastered it to the sides of his face. He blew it. He screwed up something fierce. And it was all that accursed moon's fault.

With a quiet groan he flopped back onto the dark black sheets on his bed. Yes, he had a bed. Despite what most of the Guardians thought, he had an actual house that he had built deep down in the darkest corners of his caverns. It was a shabby old place but it was something he could call home.

He stared up at the ceiling in tired agony. He was so frustrated and felt completely empty inside. "Why did I have to fall in love with such a..." he was trying to think of some disgusting, humiliating, or otherwise hurtful name but he just couldn't. "...Such a beautiful, spit fiery, goddess..." he covered his golden eyes with both his hands and let a strangled yell pass his lips. "I am such an idiot..."

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**So yeah, this chapter was a bit random but kind of important. The thing is, Manny does have a purpose for keeping Emily and Pitch both alive. But she doesn't want to live, and blames Pitch for keeping her believed in. She just wants to die.**

**Anyways! Hope you liked it, this story is becoming a lot darker than I thought it was going to be. I have a over all plot going on but if you have any suggestions for little scenes between them review or PM me. :)**

**Please Leave a Review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so I have decided that Pitch is officially OOC in this story... So... Yeah...**

**Also! I have officially connected this story with my other RotG story "Alone and Hurting" and I will be turning this into an actual story line. "alone and hurting" is this story's sequel and there will be one more book to wrap it all up.**

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In just a few weeks after the incident with Manny, Pitch had gone from furious and embarrassed to depressed and desperate. He found himself staring at the ceiling, throwing Nightmare sand daggers into the wall and watching as they dissolved. Each knife he threw he imagined was Emily, and the wall that it pierced was his heart. He was dying over and over again.

He groaned, pushing the palm of his hand to his forehead. Every time he tried to think of all his past romantic failures he was met with a wall of physical pain. His past was shrouded in pain, and every time he reached into it to find some memory, some way to solve his problems in the present, he couldn't remember anything... And he started developing the mother of all migraines.

He closed his eyes tightly as pain once again coursed through him, rubbing his temples in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure in his skull. What had he done to deserve this? What had he done to turn everything against him?

He sighed, once again abandoning the illusion of sleep. He just couldn't stop thinking of the last he saw of her. The anger, disgust, hate... In his opinion she had completely overreacted, but deep down he knew she ha her reasons. In her mind, it was his fault she was stuck in a never ending life of torture. Killing to survive...

"But why does she have to hate me?" he buried his face in his hands and pulled at his hair. "Why can't she just thoroughly despise me?"

XxPitchxOCxX

"Ugh... I'm so dumb... That's just it. I can't do anything right. Everything I do ends in a mess. A mess!" Pitch craned his head back and took another unhealthy swig of alcohol. "I'm so lonely I could die!" he glared up at the moon coldly, sitting down on a fallen tree trunk tipsily. "I could die! Is that what you want to hear Manny? Is that what you want?! Want me to sing it for you, your royal highness?!" he dropped the glass bottle onto the grass and cupped his hands to his mouth to shout.

- "Lonely!

I'm Mr. Lonely-

I have nobody-

To call my own!"-

"Are you happy? Need me to go on?!" he started up the tune again but ended it prematurely with. "I'm so friggin' lonely you Sadistic Bastard! Put me out of my misery already! Why don't you just let her stab me? I know she wants too! And I'd be happy to oblige!" he shook his head when the moon didn't answer, and he picked up his half spilled bottle of boos. "Stupid moon..."

He continued his unsteady walk through the woods in silence, taking a sip of the throat burning liquid every few minutes. "I hate myself..." he muttered. It felt weird to say, but almost right. "Everybody else does, why shouldn't I?" He kicked some loose foliage with the tip of his boot, thinking back to the last time he saw Emily. Or was that even her real name? She had called him a creep. Made a joke out of him. Carved out his heart with her indifference and hatred and left it to stop beating in the dirt. He wouldn't have been surprised if she had told him a fake name.

"Why does she hate me so much? What have I done to deserve this? It's not my fault I survive on fear. I can't control it!" he leaned against a pine tree and let his hair get tangled in the sticky sap. He didn't care.

He stayed there in the dark forrest for more than a few hours, slumped over with his back against the tree, as drunk as he could possibly be. He stayed silent the entire time, not even bothering to curse the moon anymore. When the sun started to rise he shifted slightly, and he got to his feet slowly, dropping the long empty bottle onto the ground.

"I hate being hated." he muttered, walking off into a larger shadow. "Is it so much to want a companion once and a while? Is it truly my fate to live despised and die hated?" he slunk back into his home in the dark, mentally sending himself home into his caves. But he didn't see the Reaper watching him leave, or the silent watchers behind her...

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**Leave a Review Please :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to those who reviewed and even to those who didn't. I've gotten quite a few views for this story and I am happy about it. Thanks a bunch! :)**

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Sheer terror. The sound of a scream. And someone calling his name... All sensations of fear and despair aroused him from his tortured sleep, awakening him with a boat load of adrenaline.

"Emily!" he sat up quickly, head spinning and sweat drenched. He threw the blanket off of him and stood up, but the motion only served to make him fall to his hands and knees and vomit. He mentally swore never to drink so much alcohol in one night ever again.

He stumbled up to his feet again, still nauseous but fairing better now that he had thrown up once. He pulled on his pants and quickly threw on his long coat. Darting into the nearest shadow he appeared in a place rather familiar to him. The graveyard was dark and it was raining heavily. But he could just make out the four figures ganging up on the lone Reaper.

"Help!" Emily screamed as the four men shoved her to the muddy ground and kicked her in the side. Pitch watched for a moment in shocked silence at the scene. She was struggling for her life, the knife in her hand was covered in blood but her attackers didn't let up. In a second he realized that she was the only one bleeding. They had stabbed her with her own knife. She was no match for four men on her own.

The Reaper screamed in defiance as they tried to take her weapon from her. The blade was pointed at them, but they twisted her so she would cut herself instead. She cried out in pain and again for help. Blood streamed down her hands as they forced the knife away from her, and she cried. She was done for. It was over and she knew it. And she was afraid.

Pitch glared at the attackers as her fear fueled him. Her fear was in its purest of forms, and that was all he needed to summon a black sand storm into existence. He surged forward with it, creating a cloud of darkness. He had enough light just to see the whites of their eyes before he slit their throats. And then it was over. Mere seconds later all four men lay at his feet dead. He saw their souls seep from their mouths, but instead of disappearing into Emily's belt bag they disappeared into the night.

It was a matter for another time. And he decided his focus should be on the bleeding passed out woman at his feet.

He knelt down by her side and gently moved a lock of her dark brown hair out of her face. One long line of red streamed over her eye and down her cheek into the ground, the one color out of place making her look extremely pale. Her shirt was ripped and soaked with a mixture of blood, water, and mud. He could see scratch marks on her stomach and her collar. Also her pants had been torn and and her belt cut.

Pitchiner let a puff of air leave his chest, tears almost threatening his eyes. He had arrived just in time to stop them from doing anything vile to her. "Emily..." he breathed her name, a deep pain filling his chest. She gave a soft groan as he lifted her into his arms. He quickly snuck back into the shadows and whisked her off to his home.

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**I know, short. But I kind of wanted to end there for some reason. Leave a review please. I might try to write from Emiline's point of view next.**


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter starts out in Emiline's point of view, or Emily as Pitch knew her as. :)**

* * *

"Emiline... Emiline wake up..."

The voice was but a mere whisper in her ears and she couldn't place who it was in her mind. She only remembered pain. She had been out late, performing her normal duties when four of Jack's men jumped her. Not Jack the Jack Frost, but the halloween Jack. She remembered screaming and fighting, but her unnatural strength was weak compared to theirs all combined against her. They had cut her, ripped her clothes, and she had been scared.

She remembered screaming for help, but no one seemed to hear her. Even Manny remained silent, as if telling her that she was calling the wrong names. That's when she had swallowed her pride, and shrieked his name as they started to beat her.

Emiline opened her eyes slowly. She had asked for Pitch to come and save her. And by the look of things, he had indeed come to her rescue. He was sitting next to her on a bed covered in black sheets. She could feel bandages around her stomach between her skin and the fine silk, but she didn't pay much mind to that.

"Are you alright?" Pitch moved a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, his cold fingertips caressing her skin lightly. Emilinine shivered at the touch and he quickly retracted his hand.

"How-?" she coughed, wincing at the pain in her forehead. Her mind felt muddled, and she was fairly sure she was running a feaver. But there was one question clear in her mind. "How the hell did you find out my name?!" she seethed, glaring at him coldly.

Pitch opened his mouth to speak, but then he shut it again, his lips pressed into a firm line. He looked almost angry-no, furious. He returned her glare, his golden eyes piercing into her. "I found the necklace while cleaning your wounds." he growled, standing up to leave the bedside. "Oh!" he paused by the doorway, turning back to look at her. Somewhere deep in her gut she felt something churn, almost in guilt at the look he have her. "And you're welcome. I might have just saved your damn life!"

Emiline watched him leave, the feeling in her gut becoming worse. She knew he had saved her life. Perhaps she was being a self centered prick.. He had come to help her, even after she had said that she hated him and never wanted to see him again, and she only demanded to know how he had come to figure out her true name? That was a new low for her.

"Ugh, I am so..." she sighed, unable to stand the facts now that she had thought about them. Pitch didn't deserve such hatred, not after all he had done for her... "Pitch?" she called out to him, but all she heard in return was her echo. She was alone.

XxPitchxOCxX

"A simple 'Thank-you' might have been nice!" Pitch growled at the sky, hiding within the shadows of a building as he collected his thoughts. He had spent a good portion of a week watching over her. He had cleaned and changed the bandages over her wounds. He had taken care of her bad fever when she was sick during the second night.. And she had the gall to just-

He clenched his fists tightly and yelled in frustration. "Dang woman, why are you so-so-!" he growled, covering his golden eyes and slumping against the brick wall. "Stupid, self entered..." his breaths came shakily and he let his shoulders droop. "Annoying headache..."

Glancing up at the moon he shook his head, glaring at him. "You couldn't just let me die could you?" his gaze fell to the ground and his heart felt empty...well, more so than normal. "Is there even a reason why? Why would you keep me around if all I'm good for is something to hate? Is there any reason?!" he sighed, re-entering his shadows to go about his nights work. But just before he disappeared into the pitch black he though he had heard something..

"_There is always a reason_."

XxPitchxOCxX

The night was dark in the woods of Hallow. The ghostly wind passed through the dead trees like a whisper, gently pressing up against the tall wooden house, vacant for years on end... Or so thought the mortals. Inside, screams of ghouls could be heard just above the sound of maniacal laughter of the "King of Scream", echoing up from his large domain underground.

"We are sorry master! We were unprepared!"

Jack, or Hallow eave (he found the latter title too feminine), glared coldly at his minions as the groveled at his feet. "How is it, that four of my greatest scarers couldn't best a single Reaper?!" his hands folded lightly in his lap, his fingers tapping in thought. His grin grew more malicious at the thought of it all. And he laughed.

The King of Halloween was a bit insane. Some said it was merely an act, others believed he was really losing his mind because it was rotting out of his head. Only a few knew for sure. And those usually kept quiet. He wasn't insane. He was just mad. Extremely, horrifyingly, mad.

"It was the boogeyman. He came at us out of no where lord Jack!" the ghouls flinched as he stood from his throne.

"Pitch?" he pursed his pale lips in thought.. "Now why would he bother with such a lowly creature as her?"

"She called out to him sir-"

"_Shut up!_" He snapped, and when the fellow fright spirit quivered in fear he turned back to his own musings. "No matter. She will see reason. I will have her. Or see to it myself that she meets her final demise..." he started to chuckle, his voice reverberating off the walls of the thin house as he sat back on his throne.

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**Of course there has to be another bad guy! Looks like Pitch isn't the only one after Her ;)**

**Please Leave a Review :)**


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